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#KileFest: Celebrating Community











19th/August/2023.

Some minutes past 8am. Panic! Total panic!! Like a Nairobi lady who forgot to carry a sugar bag in her purse and the grey skies are about to pour on her head. 110% panic! On my side. I am a writer and little details (overlooked) get to me. I definitely was meant to be a writer, not a politician – the devil is literary in the details.

Why the panic? You ask. A group of us – five writers who responded to a call by one of us – were meant to get a stand at the #KileFest by pooling our resources. However, due to unavoidable circumstances (peculiarly Kenyan – the cliché), two of us pulled out at the 11th hour. This meant that the three remaining members of our literary group had to top up the deficit. Almost at zero, #HustlerFund comes to my rescue (thank you GOK).

Some minutes past 8am, I am almost shutting down. The guy booking a stand is yet to respond. Twenty minutes later, after licking some glucose to get the energy to place a call to him, he reports on the confusion… Anyway, at noon, I get to the venue… The stand has been secured, shared by Books First… new found friends. I arrive in style – on foot, with a sack full of my anthology, ‘A Funeral Dress for Nyasuguta.’ In contrast, high end cars buzz about, with the obnoxious Probox, Premio, van and pickup completing the picture.

Now, the salesman in me takes over. Years back, after high school, I did a stint in sales and marketing. The first was in marketing – supermarket merchandising. There was this company in the Upperhill side of Bunyala Road, merchandising Protex and Colgate household products.

“Excuse me sir… Excuse me madam. Can I please have a minute of your time please? Thank you. Today we are having a promotion on Protex Herbal… It has chamomile… (and the other herbs I have forgotten, such a long time since then) … Again. Thank you.”

“Habari yako ndugu. Tunakubadilishia line yako ya Safaricom upate ile iko na M-Pesa.” Then, we were switching guys from the initial black Safaricom line to the green one with M-Pesa in it. It was a commission based job, so, sales people were really aggressive. That’s to say, my self-confidence soared as a consequence of these jobs.

Now, as I was saying, the salesman in me takes over. Mind you, Kileleshwa (from Kirichwa, the river – if I am not mistaken) is this posh neighbourhood. Even Queen Jane – the Kikuyu Legend - sang about it, “You always tell me that you want me and wants to buy me a house in Kileleshwa,” – the English translation. Then, some sugar daddy wanted to corrupt her, a young girl… I wonder how many Nairobi ladies can say no to such a proposal nowadays.

“Excuse me sir… Excuse me madam… Please have a peek at our book offerings… We even have an East African corner with such titles as ‘A Funeral Dress for Nyasuguta’…’” A few sales are made, and I direct them to Nuria, also representing Kenyan authors, for more variety of Kenyan/East African/African writings.

The venue? St. Mary’s. The school of the ‘Who is who in Kenya’ from a certain era. We are talking children of presidents, deputy presidents, ministers, industrialists… basically, the deep state and the system, in local political parlance. Robert Alai, as the principal organiser of the #KileFest, courtesy of being the ward rep, is definitely on to something. You get the vibes that it could soon be an international festival in years to come. Excellent community organisation skills, you gotta credit the man even if you don’t always agree with his politics.

The sun smiles at us; a welcome change of weather that was the preceding chilly days. The air is fresh, and the atmosphere congenial (will have to look up this word to see if it means what I think it means)… we are now fast friends, these strangers that met on a WhatsApp author’s forum. The business of the day? Market our books, and hopefully, make some sales. Really, authors need to get training in sales and marketing, that way, they can break that cliché of ‘the starving writer.’ Product. People. Place. Promotion. Price. (Intellectual) Property. The 6Ps of things books.

Now, as I said, there is something presidential about Kileleshwa. The atmosphere? We’ve already addressed that. Now on to the people. Ah! Beautiful people. Beautiful people created when God wasn’t in a hurry. Chiselled and curved to perfection. Gifted with Delilah’s smiles and Jezebel’s sultry voices. Posh in every which way. It’s a good day for someone who is visual. Wonderfully created, Kileleshwa beings (...’tabia zako sawa na sura yako’). Meaning I talk all of the English in me, even going to the extent of speaking English of the noise.

It’s now afternoon. A perfect afternoon. Not too sunny, a slight breeze, again… beautiful and wonderful people. A day perfect for a wedding in lush gardens – the St. Mary’s grounds have that vibe about them. Again, we thank Robert Alai for his excellent community organisation skills. Why? Les Wanyika… ‘sikupenda kukuwacha uteseke nyumbani pekee…’ The legends. The superstars. The zenith of ‘Zilizopendwa’. Evergreen love and topical ballads. Live music that seduces and promises… a hint of nostalgia. Again, the perfect afternoon.

As you can tell, as soon as Les Wanyika took to stage, the business of selling books (and other products) was all but forgotten. Les Wanyika is a once in a lifetime opportunity… again, thanks to Robert Alai’s excellent organisation skills. We are all now grooving along to the music, young and old, middle-aged and the unborn…  for there is a very pregnant lady putting most of us to shame with her ‘group of schools’ rhumba moves… Les Wanyika. Bless them!

The upshot of the festival (from a writer’s perspective)? There is a growing interest in Kenyan/East African authorship. Then again, Kenyan/East African writers really need to put their works and themselves out there, including collaborating with other Creatives if they are to compete favourably with their West African brethren. The feeling being that, for every good Kenyan book, there are ten excellent West African reads – Kenyan author, don’t kill me, the messenger. I am just giving back customer feedback… including to myself.

Again, that Les Wanyika tune that bids farewell to a perfect day as the sun goes down… I box my collection, ‘A Funeral Dress for Nyasuguta’, and sign off from duty. 

(Meanwhile, get my short stories collection at: nuriakenya.com/product/a-fune)

 

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